


Their Touch

by Tasharii



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Smut, Multi, Polyamory, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:25:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasharii/pseuds/Tasharii
Summary: Depression isn’t new to you. You always tell yourself, and everyone else, that you’ll be alright. But Steve and Bucky always see past every fake smile. See past it, and make it better.





	Their Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This is for everyone struggling with depression. Or really anyone that needs some comfort and a hug from the super-soldiers. I tried to keep the reasons for the reader’s depression as vague as possible so that you can insert whatever is making you sad at the moment.  
> You can also read this on Tumblr [Here](https://tasharii.tumblr.com/post/177879329748/their-touch)  
> Comments keep me going!  
> Hope you like it <3

The music was noisy enough that Thor had to speak just a bit louder than normal to be heard over it. Which was saying a lot. It shook your bones when the base dropped hard, and snippets of lyrics banged around in your head. You tried to pay attention. Really, really tried. Nodded along and laughed where you were supposed to. Then a few minutes would pass, and you realized you lost track of what story he was telling several sentences ago. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy his stories. You loved hearing about Asgard and what trouble he got into. Thor was hilarious.

But days like this happened.  
It really wasn’t anyone's fault.  
Your mind was a fog.   
Thoughts completely muddled and your body on autopilot.  
Like you were experiencing everything from underwater.

You slouched deeper into the leather couch and smiled at Thor, adjacent to you on the plush recliner. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, and his eyes bright. Every so often, he would swing his arms, demonstrating exactly how he dealt with one of his enemies. Sometimes he would throw his head back in a full, hearty laugh that made you cringe in surprise. It often caught you off-guard, but then you would laugh with him to cover it up.

Part of you really wished you could find the energy to tell some stories of your own. God knows there were plenty. Instead, you kept quiet and Thor was perfectly content holding 90% of the conversation. Feeling like this made you disappointed in yourself. Disappointed that you let this toxic cloud wrap itself around you like a heavy shroud. Disappointed that you weren’t strong enough to keep it at bay.

Tony was hosting yet another Avengers party. It wasn’t really a party. Not like he used to throw back in the day. From what you heard, those were much bigger and much louder.

Everyone was gathered in the common room like usual. The only thing that could classify it as a party was the extra amount of alcohol flowing, blaring music, and the addition of people who didn’t live in the tower.

Like Thor, Peter, and the Guardians. Among others.

Eventually, Thor excused himself to get another drink. You took a sip of your water, not alcohol. A buzz would probably make you dissociate more than you already were. Plus, it was a depressant. Didn’t need any of that in your system. Every so often a burst of laughter would jar you from your stupor. Tilting you head, you could see some of the others playing Mario Kart on the big TV across the large room. Part of you wanted to join but the rest of you just didn’t care.

A bit of time passed where you just sat and stared at the glass in your hands. You needed to move. To find someone else willing to talk at you while you tried to focus on what was happening. Get out of your head. Condensation dripped through your fingers and made dark spots on your black leggings, the drops were cold against your thighs.

It was just hard to find the strength to get up.

An arm wrapped around your shoulders and a warm body pressed against your side. The motion made you dip into their heavier weight, your side flush against his. His cologne wafted comfortingly over you, "Hey doll, you doing alright?" Bucky’s lips pressed against your temple in a familiar kiss. Immediately you felt the urge to cry because no, you weren’t alright. Even if you didn’t quite understand why. You blinked a couple time and forced the surge of emotions back.

In the dim lights, the shadows were heavier on his face. Highlighting his strong nose and the dip in his chin. Eyes soft with concern, Bucky arched his eyebrows in question. Relief flooded you simply from his presence. Still, you were a little surprised that he sought you out. Even though you knew you shouldn’t be. Small lies flitted through your mind. You didn’t want to worry him. His free hand took yours, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over your wrist. The touch was cool and eased some of the tension.

This wasn’t that big of a deal.  
Depression just sometimes swept in without any rhyme or reason. It would pass. It always did.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at your silence and he tugged you closer, squeezing. The tight embrace brought you back out of your head. It jostled your cup, making the ice clink sharply against the glass. You hadn’t even realized you had been quiet for so long.

"Hey, what's going on?" He whispered, close enough that you could hear him over the music and laughter. So close he didn’t even have to raise his voice. His lips brushed against your hair near your ear, breath warm. The timbre of his tone was like a balm over your aching ribs.

You curled down on the couch so that your cheek could press against his chest and shook your head. An extra boisterous burst of laughter rained over you from the group across the room, nearly washing away your softer voice "Just... trapped in my head." Bucky heard you anyway. Feet tucked under you and legs laying over his, you played with his silver fingers. Traced the paneling across his palm and quietly counting the joints in his knuckles. Anything to keep the invasive thoughts at bay.

Bucky hummed in understanding. He understood more than he probably should. You always appreciated that he could relate to you on a very personal level, but sometimes you wished he couldn't. Because his understanding came at a very heavy price.  
A price that involved war, agony, and death.

Him and Steve both.

"Wanna get out of here?" Bucky brought the hand around your shoulders up and stroked his fingers through your hair. He untangled a few strands and continued playing with your hair. You loved when he did that. It made you melt even when you were angry. When you didn’t reply right away, he used his left hand and held yours, stilling your nervous fiddling. Slowly, you took a drink of your cold water to buy a little more time. He let a peaceful silence fall between you two. Where he just held you and didn’t push. Every so often he would sing quietly along to one of the songs playing from overhead. Voice deep and rough, but sweet nonetheless.

Finally, you looked up at him, feeling guilty and shook your head "Its ok. I don’t wanna..." You trailed off and glanced back to where Steve was laughing with Tony. Probably about one of Tony's latest technological failures. Had to crane you neck over Bucky’s arm to see his smiling face. It was worth it because when he laughed like that, he glowed, "You guys are having fun. I'm just being stupid." You finished after a moment of hesitation, peering at Bucky earnestly.

Bucky frowned and tilted his head back to look too. As if feeling it, Steve glanced over just then and frowned. A crease formed in his forehead and he instantly had started scanning over your expressions. Concerned. Then he met Bucky’s gaze questioningly. They could always read each other so well. You were just starting to understand that language yourself.

Tony didn’t even stop talking. The interaction only lasted a couple seconds before the boys seemed to understand enough.

Huffing a sigh, Bucky shook his head at Steve and turned back to you. He searched your face with so much care it made your throat close up and stomach twist. His blue eyes were soft, and a tender smile turned up the corners of his full lips "You're never stupid. Never. I'll let Steve know we're heading out. I'm sure he'll come soon."

Then he stood up. Bucky held onto your hand until he stepped too far away at you had to let go. You wanted to protest more but a selfish part of you was too grateful to say anything else. After he departed, you instantly felt cold. Even though the room was comfortable. It was deeper than just physically cold. The world faded back again, leaving you floating just a thread outside of your body. That’s what it felt like anyway.

The music pressed against your ears as you shakily got up. Making them ring. You sat your half empty glass on the coffee table and rubbed the dampness on your leggings. Even your bones felt heavy. Filled with gritty sand. You took a breath and tried to follow its path through your lungs. Down into your stomach and then back out again. Tried to notice that the lights were soft and warm. The oak floor hard under your boots and the air cool against your bare skin as it made your blouse flutter over your leggings.

It sucked to have to force yourself to be aware.  
A numbing ache filled the cavern where your heart should be and your head was full of cotton.

But then Bucky’s arm was around your shoulders and it was easier. Because you just had to be aware of him. Not the rest of the exhausting world. Not the toxic whispers in the back of your head begging you to give them attention. Not all the problems that always hung like anchors around your throat.

Just him.

He kissed your cheek and explained "Steve will be back in a bit. I told him not to worry cause I've got you." Smoothly, he guided you across the apartment. Your other friends waved and shouted sweet, drunken goodbyes. Clint even whistled, assuming you were leaving to have some ‘alone’ time. You laughed a little and waved back. Did your best to not worry anyone else.

Inside the elevator, you dropped the mask and sighed, stepping back and just holding his hand. You didn’t want to pull away, but you wanted to make your point. The point that guilt fed into, "You shouldn't worry about me. It's just a weird wave. It’ll pass. Nothing’s wrong. I’m ok." The elevator started gliding up towards your floor. Even the subtle motion made you sway. Weak on your feet.

Bucky observed you seriously. Earnestly. His eyebrows came together, and he let go of your hand to cup your face in his palms. They were warm and rough against your skin. His shoulders hunched down, so he could stare right into your eyes, face close to yours. The way he said your name echoed in your chest and made your heartbeat stumble “No you’re not.” He stated slowly, deliberately “And that’s ok sweetheart. It’s alright.”

Those words knocked a throbbing hole in your heart. Straight through all the walls you held up. All the lies you told yourself and everyone else.

Tears came on fast then. Hot and overwhelming. They filled your eyes and he wiped them away with his thumbs. Bucky’s hand slipped behind your neck, the other around your waist. Then he stepped forward and let your head rest against his chest. Whispering that it was alright and that he had you. To just cry it out.

The elevator dinged at your floor, and the door opened. But neither of you moved.

No. For various, different reasons, you were not ok.

Your hands fisted against the back of Bucky’s shirt, under his light jacket. Tremors shook through your body. His lips pressed against the top of your head.

But you would be. Because the people you loved most in the world saw you.  
They saw you. Understood that you weren’t ok.  
And held you.

Every so often Bucky’s voice would brush against your ears, over your quiet sobs. Arms tight and protective around you. The string of sweet promises didn’t stop. Even after your tears dried up.

And you believed every word he said.

 

 

 

Steve came up not even 20 minutes later. He couldn’t stay away.

Only a small standalone lamp lit up the space where you and Bucky were curled up on the couch. The room was cool and soft music played in the background from the record player your boys insisted on having. Thankfully, it didn’t only play music from their time. Records were coming back into style.

Head was pillowed on Bucky’s chest, you focused on the rise and fall of his breath. One arm hugged you to him. His hand stroked up and down your upper arm. The other rubbed soothing circles against your thigh. Bare feet tucked underneath you, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

Two pairs of shoes, and a jacket were strewn across the floor between the door and couch. Bucky’s plaid shirt was soft against your cheek and his voice rumbled deep in his chest.  He was telling you a story from the days of the Howling Commandos. It was easier to focus on him talking because you could feel it. Feel the words forming and leaving him. Feel the air as he took another breath. Feel his steady heartbeat under your ear.

Proof he was alive and with you. Which wasn’t much of a guarantee in your line of work.

Steve shut the apartment door quietly, not wanting to startle you. He toed off his shoes and hung his jacket next to the door. His bright blues fell on you and softened. Longing. Even so, he hesitated on coming over to the couch. Didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, he took his time pulling out his keys and wallet, sitting them on top of the bookshelf you kept by the door. Then he picked up Bucky’s jacket and hung it up too. Killing time.

You could feel Bucky looking down at you, story paused. Asking the same silent question written on Steve’s face. So, you leaned up across Bucky’s chest, and reached your other hand out for him. Relief spread across Steve’s features in a tender smile and he closed the distance between you in a few short strides. He took your hand and kissed your forehead before leaning down and giving Bucky a soft kiss against his lips. The sight still made your heart spark electricity down your spine.

Steve flopped down next to you on the super-soldier-sized couch, throwing his arm behind Bucky’s on the back, so that you were safely snug between them. His other hand still held yours and he kissed your shoulder through your shirt “What’s on your mind sweetheart?” He asked quietly. His artist fingers stroked along yours, detailing the creases in your palm. Letting you know he was there.

Bucky squeezed your thigh, still tracing random designs over your thin leggings. His left arm pillowed your head and moved just a little so that he could softly stroke the back of Steve’s neck, fingers in his hair. You hummed thoughtfully, body slowly coming back to the present as they continued touching you. Grounding you. “Nothing you haven’t heard before.” You finally admitted. It was just the three of you and you knew you could be more honest here than anywhere else. Should be more honest. For their sakes and your own, “Just my depression reminding me of things I’d rather not think about.” The record skipped as it changed to another song. Endlessly by The Cab.

Steve nuzzled into your hair, “Wanna talk about it?” He asked, voice low and warm. Releasing your hand, he brushed across your stomach and slipped his fingers under your shirt, feeling the skin of your hip. It felt intimate and sweet. The rough pad of his thumb traced your bone just under the hem of your pants and he hugged you closer, hand between you and Bucky’s side.

“Maybe later. Can you just…” You trailed off, not exactly sure what you were asking for, “Just distract me?” You ended with a hesitant question. Shifting your body so that you could clearly see them both. Study their reactions. Your feet touched the wood floor, back still partly leaning against Bucky’s side, and you held Steve’s bare arm where it was wrapped across your torso.

“Course we can doll.” Bucky answered first, bringing his hand up to run through your hair. You nuzzled into his touch, eyes drifting closed for a second. Entranced.

Steve stroked your cheek, elbow still propped on the back of the couch, and brushed your hair behind your ear “We could show you how much you mean to us.” He mused, eyes shinning with a familiar warmth. They showed you how much you meant every day. In a hundred different ways. Still, you nodded, leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. This helped. Their warmth and smell surrounding you. The familiar cushion of your couch and comfort of the apartment you shared with them. Quiet music filling the space of the room.

Steve tilted your chin up and caught your mouth before you could pull away. He kissed you sweetly. Full of heat and every promise he had ever made to you. Kissing Steve made your toes curl against the floor, your body naturally pressed up against his. It wasn’t an entirely sexual gesture. This was a slow, building passion. A need to just be close to him. To absorb his heat and let it fill up every dark space inside of you.

Then you felt Bucky’s mouth against your neck. He kissed down across your skin, teeth grazing your collarbone. Shivers followed every nip. Every flick of his tongue. He removed his arm from behind you and bunched his hands in your shirt, gently tugging. Another silent question. You broke your kiss with Steve long enough so that your shirt could be pulled over your head and tossed aside. Desperately, you needed to be closer. To feel them.

Steve’s teeth tugged on your bottom lip and you opened your mouth. The taste of Asgardian mead coated your tongue when Steve’s traced through your lips. It was sweet. His mouth was hot. The heat spread into your veins. Burned away the ice in your bones. You could feel how much he needed you through every brush of your lips and tongue. One of Steve’s hands tangled into your hair, thumb stroking your temple. The other stroked up Bucky’s back and caught his hair, tugging lightly and making him groan. Bucky loved having his hair played with as much as you did.

Slowly, Bucky kissed down your chest, over the lace of your bra and then across your ribs. You broke your kiss with Steve and met Bucky’s eyes. Breath already lost, and lips swollen. Bucky swallowed, hair in his eyes and teeth pinching your skin before he leaned up. You could taste him as you quickly inhaled and then he was kissing you and your lungs stuttered for air. Slowly, your hands felt up his chest and then shoved at his flannel. Bucky hastily jerked it off, hands getting bunched in the sleeves.

Steve chuckled at the sight, watching as Bucky pressed one knee between your thighs, and knelt up on the couch. The position forced you to arch up to keep his lips against yours. Kissing Bucky was always rougher than kissing Steve. Almost sinfully in the way he used his tongue and pressed his soft mouth against yours. His left hand cupped behind your neck while his right ran down and squeezed your breast through your bra. You gasped into his mouth. If Steve made you burn, Bucky made you melt.

You chased his kiss until he was out of reach, his teeth scrapping your bottom lip until he pulled back. A quiet groan escaped you when he broke away. The steady pressure of his thigh between your legs drove you mad. Bucky stroked your flushed cheeks and he gave a lopsided grin “Are you feelin’ better sweetheart?”

Confused, you blinked, slightly dazed. Your skin hummed with want and heat. Your lips were tingling, heart racing, chest heaving, and molten fire coiled deep in your core. Unable to deny it, you shyly nodded, glancing between your boys. Steve’s face was lit up with that dopy grin he got in moments like this. Like his world narrowed down to just you and Bucky. He sat beside you and traced a hand up and down your bare arm. Sparks followed his touch.

Their hands chased the dark thoughts away.  
Their voices cleared up the fog.  
Their touch reminded you why your depression would never win.  
Because your boys would always be there to keep you grounded.

Searching for the right words, you took a deep breath. Only to realize that your chest no longer ached like an empty cavern. You felt full. Alive, “I feel good. Really good.” You explained, trying not to stutter “Thanks to you.” You made sure to look at them both as you thanked them. But it really didn’t have to be addressed. They knew what you meant.

Bucky stepped back off the couch. Removed the distracting pressure from against your core, much to your disapproval, “Good. Cause we’ve got some business to attend to.” He smirked mischievously and gave Steve a pointed look. He stretched his arms over his head, flexing up and giving you a very full look over the rolling muscles under his shirt. You bit your lip and suppressed a groan. After a second, Steve stood up too, leaving you very cold on the couch. This time, physically cold with a needy heat wreaking havoc through your body.

Eyebrows creased in a pout, you gaped up at them “Really? Now?” You waved a hand down at yourself, gesturing at your flushed, bare skin. Bucky nodded, still grinning.

“Very serious business.” Steve agreed solemnly. He crossed his arms, making his dark blue shirt strain over his broad chest. You wanted to rip it off.

Scowling, you sat up with a shrug “Fine… then I can just take care of my—”

Before you could finish your thought, Bucky stooped down and grabbed your legs. He easily dragged you to the very edge of the couch and lifted. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively and you squealed. Surprised. Your head dropped down on the seat of the couch, body arched up. Then Bucky took a step back and Steve caught your hand, tugging you up so that you could catch yourself around Bucky’s shoulders.

Immediately, Bucky gripped you pointedly by your ass and turned, carrying you across the living room. Steve hesitated only a second beside the record player and flicked it off before following you. Bucky was already kissing your neck, teeth biting at the joint between your throat and shoulder. Hard enough that it hurt but then his tongue soothed the spot and you whined. Not missing a step, he navigated smoothly through the hallway.

It took you a second, but your brain caught up, and you tilted your head, so you could stare at Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, “Oh so I’m the very serious business huh?” Your nails dug into Bucky’s back when he squeezed your ass and pulled you tighter against him.

Bucky kissed your ear, breath making you shiver “We take loving you very seriously.” He chuckled, juggling you easily to one hand so that he could open the door.

“Promised we’d show you how much you mean to us. That’s very important.” Steve continued for him, already stripping off his shirt and discarding it in the hallway. Your eyes traced down the expanse of his chest and stomach. All the way down to where the trail of blond hair disappeared under his jeans. You already knew how every inch of him felt underneath your hands. But you couldn’t wait to refresh your memory.

The door roughly swung open and hit the wall with a loud THUD. Bucky had kicked it a little aggressively, “But I already know that.” You admitted playfully, unable to stop the smile that stretched across your face. Laughter filled the air when Bucky tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed. You bounced twice before finally landing on your back, sprawled out.

Steve crawled onto the bed, hovering between your legs and staring down at you like you were the sun at the center of his universe, “And we’ll make sure you never forget.”


End file.
